


For Loudly She Bays

by Meldanya



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Gen, puppy fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2018-06-08 05:02:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 2,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6840097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meldanya/pseuds/Meldanya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of puppy drabbles inspired by Fire_Sign's Squirrel Universe. Ant's on holiday, Mr B's off, it's just Phryne, Jack and Chipmunk the Beagle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Saturday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fire_Sign](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fire_Sign/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Fear Not The Beagle](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6798229) by [Fire_Sign](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fire_Sign/pseuds/Fire_Sign). 



> So ... Fire_Sign introduced Chipmunk earlier this week. This is a fanfic about her (the dog that is). 
> 
> Set about three years after Fear Not the Beagle.

On a Saturday morning, Jack came down the stairs searching for his newspaper, and frowned at the sight in front of him. “Do you think she’s well, P?”

Phryne was focused on her case files in the parlour, and spared a brief glance to the front hall. “She’s fine, Jack,” and returned to her files with tea.

Chipmunk was sprawled across the hall floor, head on her paws. She let out a heavy sigh as Jack crouched anxiously next to her, weakly thumping her tail. “How’re you doing, lass? I know you miss him.” The beagle licked his hand briefly and then returned to her position.

“She seems so out of spirits. It’s only been two days since Ant’s been gone — do you think we should have Dr. Farnon round?”

“I’m quite sure she’s fine, Jack. Now come take a look at this.”

Jack went over and helped himself to a biscuit, sitting next to his partner to look through the files. As he chewed, he felt the deep brown eyes on him, filled with pain.

He returned the stare, “I don’t know, P — I’m really worried. Ant can’t come home from his holiday to find that we’ve killed his dog. Look at her eyes!”

Phryne finally looked up from the casework enough to assess Chipmunk and let out a peal of laughter, “Oh honestly, Jack! It’s the biscuits she’s after.” Phryne picked up a biscuit and waved it in the air, and Chipmunk immediately sat up, perking her ears and sniffing.

Phryne put the biscuit back down and told the beagle firmly, “No. No parlour for you, Chip. Not when there’s food.” The dog settled back down with a low whine.

She leaned back and laughed again at Jack's chagrined expression. “Oh, darling, three years in and she can still walk all over you.”

He chucked at himself, and reached for the tea, “That’s my problem with all the women in this household, Miss Fisher.” 


	2. Sunday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ant's gone, Mr. B's on vacation. Jack and Phryne get a case. Who watches the dog?

Bert Johnson eyed the little figure beside him. “You'd better not make a mess on my bleeding upholstery,” he threatened.

Chipmunk just gave another happy whine and stuck her nose further against the cab window.

Robinson had called him in a panic this morning; he and Miss Fisher had been swept into a case and there was no one to watch Ant’s dog. That's how Bert found himself with a wriggly, panting fare in his front seat as he headed to Mrs. Stanley’s.

They got to Rippon Lea half hour before Bert was supposed to be at lunch. He opened the door to his cab, letting the beagle out to frisk around, “Might as well take your highness for a bit o’ a walk.”

Chipmunk ran ahead, giving out little yelps of joy with each new scent. Bert followed along behind her, smoking his cigarette, relaxing in the sunny, blustery day.

Suddenly, she froze. There was a very fat possum right in the middle of the lawn. Bert dropped his smoke, “Oh no, no no no,” and cried out “Chipmunk, HEEL!” just as she let out a deep echoing bay and started to chase down the creature. The possum took off, and the beagle chased it into the trees, letting out a series of yips.

“Chipmunk!! CHIPMUNK!!” called Bert, his voice lost to the wind, as the yips faded out. No dog appeared.

“Damn it!” Bert swore, starting to run towards where the dog had disappeared. He did not want to face Robinson and Miss Fisher without their dog. “Chipmunk!! Here girl!!”

* * *

  
An hour later, Bert was panting with panic and exhaustion; he had run all over the grounds, calling for the beagle. She was completely gone; he was haunted at every step by the image of little Ant's face, if he came home from holiday to find his best friend gone.  

He was slowly circling the lake, weakly calling “Chipmunk” in his now-hoarse voice, when he heard someone singing “Albert!” through the wind. Bert turned, and Cec was walking towards him and he was holding a wagging beagle. He let out a sob of relief.

“Chippo, m’girl, where did you go?” he cried, coming over to give scratch her head.

Cec put Chipmunk in Bert’s arms, “She was just sitting at the back door like she lived ‘ere, when I came out to find you, mate. She led me all the way to you -- this is one clever dog,” he cooed.

Bert thought of his dirty trousers and missed lunch. “Clever’s one word to use, I supp’se,” he grumbled. Chipmunk twisted up to lick his nose and Bert grinned despite himself.


	3. Monday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's two o'clock in the morning. Jack and Phryne have had a long day. It's about to get longer.

Jack was blearily fumbling his keys at the front door with an annoyed Phryne standing beside him.

“Any more bright ideas for the night, Detective Inspector?” The stakeout had not gone well.

“Really, Miss Fisher, police procedure dictates that— ”

“That I can send the Chief Commissioner the cleaning bill for this coat?”

Jack opened the door and then paused, “Where’s Chipmunk?” The hall was eerily silent, with none of the normal spins and wags that greeted him at the door.

Phryne looked as though the dog could be in Canberra for all she cared, as she tried to get the sawdust off her beret.

“Albert should have had her back by now,” Jack felt a surge of irrational panic — Chipmunk was fine, Albert was trustworthy, he reminded himself — “Where is she?”

“Jack, he left a note right here,” said Phryne, pointing at a scrawl on the hall table as she went into the parlour to pour herself a stiff drink.

_Dog spent day at Mrs. Stanley’s. Was good. Went for swim in lake. Shut her in kitchen when home to dry off — Bert_

“She’s fine!” Jack told Phryne with relief, “Bert’s just left her in the …” then with dawning horror, “... kitchen.” He knew why the house was so quiet now.

Jack rushed to the kitchen door, knowing what would be on the other side. The sight was even worse than he feared: pantry door open, broken jam jars, spilt flour, smashed crockery, potatoes rolling across the floor.

In the corner, a little figure huddled, still smelling like lake water, tail twitching as she looked up at him with remorseful eyes.

Jack sighed, “Oh, lass,” and she let out a little whine, and crept slowly forward, head down low.

Phryne came up beside him and laughed at the sight. She handed him her drink. “Here, you’ll need this.”

She went back towards the stairs, then warned, “My tub will be fully occupied for the next hour.”

The beagle was now ingratiatingly licking Jack’s hand. He groaned, “Just the two of us tonight, Chip.” 


	4. Tuesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A cozy evening at home.

The phonograph was playing Ella Fitzgerald, she had a tumbler full of whisky and a new book to read. Phryne had the house to herself for the first time in months.

They'd successfully caught their suspect earlier that afternoon, and Jack was back at the station, buried in the arrest paperwork; Phryne had tripped home to relax with a well-earned drink.

The beagle was snoozing by the fire, lying so close that Phryne gave her a quick glance to ensure that she wasn’t singeing her fur. _So quiet and peaceful,_ she thought, settling back onto the chaise with her book.

* * *

Phryne had just refilled her glass, when the dog stirred. Chipmunk came over, and rested her chin on the chaise, looking up at Phryne with those deep brown eyes.

“No, Chip, you know you’re not allowed,” Phryne scolded gently.

She had resigned herself to many aspects of dog ownership, but dog hair on the furniture was not something she could tolerate.

Chip gave a small whine, and her tail started thudding eagerly against the floor.

Phryne stroked her head, “You really miss him, don’t you lass?”

She thought back to their normal evenings, where Ant and Chipmunk would be curled up side by side in front of the fire, Ant buried in his adventure novels, his dog snoozing happily beside him.

“He’ll be home soon,” she told the beagle, as Chip put up a paw and kept giving her the intense look.

She felt herself caving, “Oh, very well. Come on up, only this once.”

Chip happily leapt up beside her and paced around in a little circle before settling down. The beagle rested her chin on Phryne’s leg, and gave a contented sigh. Phryne scritched her head, “I know, Chip, I miss him too.”

When Jack came home a few hours later, Phryne and Chipmunk were both snoring gently on the lounge in front of the dying fire.


	5. Wednesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the morning after, Jack and Phryne wake up to discover a surprise.

Jack woke slowly the next morning, smiling to himself as he thought of the day ahead. An empty house, and a full day off to spend with no one but Phryne.  Last night had been _very_ enjoyable after he’d come home — delightful to celebrate the end of a case when they didn’t have to be quiet.

Eyes still closed, he rolled over to pull Phryne close, hoping that she was interested in continuing last night’s activities … only to end up with a mouth full of paw.

Jack opened his eyes and blinked. Chipmunk was lying flush against Phryne, head lolling on the pillow, paws shoving him away. Phryne had her arm draped around the beagle, snoring gently.

This changed things.

He gently nudged the sleepy duo, “Phryne, Phryne, wake up.” Chipmunk stretched out a little further, making snuffly noises in her sleep.

“Mmmmmmm?” Phryne barely responded.

“... I don’t know if you’ve observed, but the dog is currently on our bed.”

Phryne’s eyes flew open to take in the snoring beagle, “Chipmunk!”

“Jack, what is she doing in our bed??”

He shrugged. “Did we bring her in here last night?”

Phryne lay back and groaned. “We were heading downstairs for another drink ... “

Jack then remembered, “Oh, no…”

“And you said she looked so sad, moping in Ant’s room by herself.”

“And you agreed.”

“I clearly had too much to drink!”

Chipmunk was awake now, licking Jack’s hand, tailed thudding, bottom wriggling.

Jack sighed; his plans gone. He heaved himself out of bed, “C’mon, lass, I’ll go get you your brekkie.”

The beagle gave a happy yelp, and bounced out of bed to rush the door.


	6. Thursday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uncle Cec takes Chipmunk for an outing with her brother, his dog Roger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ivy Robinson is Jack's niece in Firesign's Squirrel universe. She's first introduced in [Of the Genus Hedera](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6140374/chapters/14069674).

Cec squinted at the two happy faces in the back of his cab. “‘Ere we go now, you two 'ave had a good day.”

Panting was the only response. “Now, let’s not tell Uncle Bert about you lot being in the newly cleaned cab,” he continued.

He’d taken Chipmunk and her brother, Roger, on an outing on his afternoon off. Cec and Roger had a normal Thursday routine -- they’d go for a long walk along the river, and then he'd find a quiet tree to snooze under while Roger snuffled around.

There was no nap for Cec today while the two dogs tore around in the open grass, wrestling and spinning between long games of chase. They’d gone for quite a few plunges in the river, but Cec had remembered to bring towels to dry them off.

“You’ll be nice and tuckered out tonight when I get you home,” he told Chipmunk, pulling into Wardlow’s lane to drop her off. The pair of beagles did not look the least bit tired.

When Cec open the door to let her out, Chipmunk bolted and Roger followed his sister’s lead, starting to play all over again.

“‘Roger! Chipmunk! Heel!” Cec lazily called as the dogs took off the back garden. He shrugged as they ignored him. He’d just let them tire themselves out and then put Chip insid-- his train of thought was interrupted by a group of shrill shrieks and a “CHIP NO."

He gulped, and took off at a run for the back garden, skidding to a halt at the sight.

The two beagles were tussling and tearing around, surrounded a group of startled young women in their afternoon best, clearly having just leapt to their feet. A tea tray had been upended all over the grass and Ivy Robinson was desperately calling to the dogs to get them to stop.

Cec let out a piercing whistle, and a delicate looking girl in pink clapped her hands to her ears. Cec shouted firmly, “‘Ere! ROGER. CHIP. Here NOW!”

Roger and Chipmunk stopped instantly and slunk over to Cec’s feet, wagging abashedly. “‘Oughta be ashamed of yourselves. You know better,” he told them. Chipmunk whined and lay down. Roger hid behind Cec with his tail between his legs.

“I’m so sorry, miss,” Cec apologized to Ivy who was assessing the tea tray damage with a pained expression. “I didn’t know there’d be a party here.”

Ivy sighed, “Uncle Jack said I could host my literary society here -- I thought we’d move outside since it was so nice.”

Chipmunk came and cuddled up to Ivy with an apologetic whine. The rest of the ladies resumed their seats chattering.

“Ah, well,” Ivy murmured softly while darting a glance at the girl in pink, “it was better than Felicity White's dull as dishwater meeting last month.” 


	7. Saturday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In honour of Fire_Sign's new puppy, one final chapter of Chipmunk the beagle!

The telephone was ringing. Jack bounded the stairs to catch it, only to be greeted by a resentful “Yip!” at the bottom step and two baleful brown eyes staring at him, as he trod on a tail.

He started at the dog’s odd sleeping place, “Chip, what are you doing there?”

The beagle responded with a resigned sigh as she settled back down to her spot at the base of the stairs.

Jack looked at her worriedly as he answered the phone, “Fisher-Robinson residence.”

“No, I’m sorry, ma’am, this is **not** Cutts the Butcher.”

He hung up the receiver in exasperation at the wrong number, and sat back down next to the beagle.

“Sorry about that, lass,” he said, settling on the stairs. Chip draped her chin across his foot, ears pricked up, eyes trained on the door.

“He’s coming home today, my girl,” he told the dog, scratching her ears.

They were still sitting like that half an hour later when Phryne bustled through the hall, hands full of evidence for latest case.

“Really, you two, Ant’s not due back till after lunch!” and went into the parlour.

“We don’t mind waiting, do we Chippie?” Jack asked.

Just then, the little dog’s head jerked up at the sound of a noise outside. She started slowly creeping towards the dog; her entire posture was tense.

“Not yet, lass,” Jack said, as the pup let out a high pitched whine.

She ignored him, and continued the intermittent whimpering at the door. There was an awful lot of commotion outside – Jack thought as he got up to investigate. Just as he stood up, Ant burst through the front door. Chip let out a deep bay and hurled herself into the air towards her boy.

“Chip! Chip! Chippie, I missed you so much!!” Ant was trying to hug his dog, as she was trying to leap, twirl, lick and cry all at the same time. “Did you miss me? Were you good? Did you behave?”

Ant managed to gather the little beagle into his arms on one of her high leaps, and held her, her tail thudding against the door as she covered his face with kisses.

Jack finally got a word in, “Hullo, Ant, you’re home early.”

“Mr. B picked me up early! I’m going to take Chip down to see Willie and Freddie,” and with a quick wave, he was offer before Jack had time to respond – the boy was running down the street, beagle right beside him, tail high.

Phryne popped her head out of the parlour, “Is Ant home already?”

“I’m surprised you missed the commotion, P. Come and gone already and taken the mutt with him.”

Mr. B appeared from the kitchen, “Good morning, Miss, Inspector, I trust you had a restful week. I’ll have luncheon for you shortly.”

The butler paused, “With some small delay. There’s a number of, er, irregularities on the lower shelves of the pantry that need to be urgently addressed.”


End file.
